Christian WolfUntitled
by xxinkxx
Summary: It started with playful bantering, then disagreeing, to yelling and now....
1. Chapter 1

**Christian Wolf **_Point Of view_

It started with playful bantering then to disagreeing, then yelling and now, for the first time, there was hitting or it sounded like it. I was in my room trying to stay out of the fight by hiding in my room but I could still hear everything. Even past my crying I could hear the yelling from both of them and then a slap and silence, my mother started to sob.

Everything has changed so much within the last 3 months. My father lost his job, my mom had to work more and more and now I barley see her, she has to work to feed us and my dad only spent it on beer and drugs. Then the fighting stated, and I didn't understand why.

I fell asleep that night leaned against my door after I heard my dad slam the door and the fighting stopped. I never dreamed anymore only painful nightmares. I woke up at five-thirty, an hour and a half before I had to get up for school.

I staid up anyways-not being able to go back to sleep-and got into the shower. I just stood there for a long time letting the hot water sooth me. I got out and straightened my black hair and put on eyeliner.

I also changed a lot in the last year. I used to be one of the popular jocks, who thought he could do anything just because he was the head soccer player. Then I moved from Sacramento, California to New York and now, those soccer guys call me a gay fag or the loser emo kid.

Today, I got dressed in a pair of tight, black, CCS pants, and a Fall Out Boy t-shirt under a Clandestine sweatshirt. That's what most of my closet consisted of. My look everyday was tight pants, band tee, converse shoes, straight black side bangs, and eyeliner. Most of these things are unusual but I seemed to like them.

School-on the other hand- was always the same, boring and pointless, never changed even with the move. The only person I really talked to was Alex, my best friend. He understood most of the things I've been going through. I didn't tell him the latest news and wasn't planning on it. His parents fought too but not like mine and then they broke up, letting him live peacefully with his mom.

Something was a little off in reading class today. Usually there was an empty seat to my left but today somebody was in it. I peeked over to the seat to see who occupied it. It was a girl, somebody I haven't seen before and she looked like somebody that should be in the front row writing notes to her 'BFF', not in the back row eyeing me.

She looked tall almost 5'8'' and thin, with nice girly curves. She had shoulder, length, and straight, brown hair and deep brown eyes.

Our eyes met for a moment and we both turned our heads away. I didn't look at her for a long time; I flipped my hair, making it a wall between us. Then our teacher, Mr.Bledi, told the class that we could talk for the last ten minutes in honor of the new student. She must be new.

"Hi." I heard her soft voice next to me. I turned my head, flipping my hair out of the way breaking the wall. There she sat leaning over her desk with big eyes, smiling at me. The must be a joke.

"Hey." I mumbled.

"I'm Ryan. Actually, my name is Ashley Ryan."

'Ashley.' I repeated but without really saying it only moving my lips. "Um, I'm Christian Wolf. Why do you call yourself Ryan?" Did that just come from my mouth? I was striking up conversation with her. I never talked to anybody.

"'Cause Ashley is everybody's name, I wanted to be different. Not many girls are named Ryan."

I just nodded my head and put on a fake smile then, went back to my mindless doodling. There was a long quiet pause from both of us.

"I'm new here. I just moved from L.A." She said breaking the silence and I turned my head to look at her.

"I figured you were new. So, why are you talking to me and not..." I looked at the cheerleaders and jocks laughing in the front row. ", Them?" I said finishing my question.

"Well," She pondered for a moment. "You looked lonely."

"Oh, thanks."

"And you're different." Her hazel eyes looked up and down my body and then she smiled. "I like different."

I shifted slightly in my seat, I felt uncomfortable with actually talking to somebody, but I smiled, a real smile.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" I said, and then my smile faded.

"Well, it depends...Where're you from?"

"Sacramento."

"Then it's a good thing." She sat back down in her seat and gathered her stuff inside her bag. I laughed slightly not really understanding the point of her question, but I was planning on asking. I gathered my book and notebook and put them into my bag. After the bell rang, she got up went one way and I went the other, not another word.

I walked home trying to avoid actually coming home, my parents and worst of all a bus ride. The hose was overly quiet when I got home. Mom was making dinner while trying not to cry and my dad wad reading in the living room, like nothing was wrong.

I could only imagine what could have happened here. I head straight to my room but I was stopped.

"Son," I closed my eyes not wanting to talk to him. "Your school soccer team tryouts are coming up. You should sign up." By 'you should' meant 'you're going to.' He said all of this not even looking away from the paper.

"I don't want to." I also talked back, spoke my mind always leading me into trouble and this time I was afraid of what was going to come. Soccer was always the thing I had to do.

My father was the star player in High School till he lost the biggest game ever leaving me to clean up his mess. This was HIS dream; he pushed and pushed me to do the best I could. I was good, and he thought that if I won that game he lost it would make up for it. I did love the sport for a while until he became obsessed with me being the best, and I was but hated it. I didn't want that again.

"What?" He said setting down his paper.

I stood up straighter and stood firm. "I don't want to play." My voice was monotone keeping my emotion under control.

"You have to."

"No, I don't!" I said raising my voice.

"Look at you, Christian!" He said standing up and started to yell. "You look like some girl and now you're refusing to play soccer! What are you gay or something?"

"Dad, Soccer is your dream, not mine and if you want to fix your mistake, you do it. Not me!"

"You-!"

"Guys stop." My mom said speaking up.

"Shut up!" He said slapping her.

"Leave her alone!" I-for the first time-stood up to my dad and it was a very bad choice. He lifted his hand and punched me; I really couldn't feel the pain.

"Go sit down and eat." He said.

"I'm not hungry." I said turning my head back to look at him. I couldn't believe I was standing up to him again. He hit me again, and then pushed me into the wall.

I went back to my room with out another word and I didn't eat. I heard my father leave like every other night, probably out drinking or doing drugs like always.

My mother come into my room and told me to do the dishes. "Are you okay?" She asked as she put some dirty dishes next to me, into the sink, for me to clean.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"Why are you still with him mom?" I asked avoiding her question.

"I love him and he's just going through a hard time, just leave it at that."

I finished the dishes and went to my room where I spent most of my life. Either listening to music or sometimes I would write or draw, sometimes sitting against my door listening. Listening to the fighting, the crying, and the hitting.

At about 9:30, I left my room and went to take a shower. I looked at the palm of my hand; I had cut it on a knife while washing dishes one night. The cut should have hurt more than it did, but it actually felt good, I didn't understand.

My dad was home at 10:30, drunk and high. He started to yell at my mom for some stupid reason and then started to hit her, worse than last night. I started to cry as I listen to what was going on. I couldn't do anything and it was getting worse. I fell asleep.

My morning routine was the same everyday, get dress into my tight pants and band and walk to school.

Today, I was late to first period and I sat in my back seat and she was in the back row also sitting next to me. How many classes of mine was she in?

**Ashley Ryan (Ryan) **

_Point of view _

It surprised me to see him come in late to our class and the fact that he was late. He looked different today almost sicker. I always over observed people and today he looked tired and sick, but I convinced myself that he woke up late and skipped breakfast.

I leaned over my desk slightly to be closer to him.

"Hey," I said with a smile. It was so easy for me to smile, but it looked so hard for him.

"Hey," He said slightly looking over to me with his smoldering emerald eyes.

"So, why are you so late?"

"I walked to school."

"Why? Don't you have a car?"

"No I don't a have a car and I hate riding the bus."

"Then you should ride with me. Where do you live?"

"8th Avenue."

"Well, that's good 'cause I live on 6th."

A small cricked smile spread across his lips and I just wanted to hug him, he looked so different when he smiled, even a small one. I actually started to think he was cute and I liked it.

"Thanks but I can walk I don't want to cause you any trouble." He looked back down at his papers and his smiled disappeared, I wondered what he was thinking.

"Okay, but don't be late again." I smiled at him then sat back. Mr. Clad gave me a look and I stopped talking. I opened my notebook and tore off a piece of paper. I wrote on it: 787-7733 if you ever need a ride call me." I handed it to him but Mr. Clad snatched it off of his desk and threw it away.

"Miss. Ryan, I'm not sure if I told you but no note passing in my class. You too Mr. Wolf." I just nodded my head and so did he. I felt so bad for getting him yelled at.

"Sorry," I whispered and we both were very quiet for the remainder of the class- even though I was dieing not talking to him. The bell rang and he and I were the last people out.

"Hey, don't worry about getting yelled at Mr. C is always mean. What was on that?" He asked quietly.

"Oh here," I handed him a note similar to the other one."

"Thanks." He said shoving it into his pocket.

We also had second period together but I didn't feel the need to talk to him, I thought about him. I really didn't understand him; he was so nice, but afraid to talk or be himself. The bell rang and we had separate classes the next.

I had no clue what class was about all I thought about was him and what he could be thinking. He looked troubled or even scared. I waned to help but I didn't know how. The belled rang making me jump but I was glad it was lunch.

He had the same lunch as me, what a surprise. He had almost every class with me. I was one of the first people to lunch and got my food quickly.

He already was seated with a bottle of Coke next to him. He sat with his head on his heads looking into space. He was alone so there was plenty of room for me to sit.

"Hey sweets," I said with a smile. "Can I sit here?"

"Sure. Sweets?" He said looking up at me.

I sat down. "Yes, sweets. I call all my friends that."

"So, we're friends now?"

"We'll I think so. Do you?"

He shrugged, "Sure." He smiled slight. My eye drifted to the drink that sat in front of him.

"Aren't you going to eat?" His green eyes looked down at the bottle and then he picked it up and started to play with it.

"No, I never eat lunch." I just nodded my head telling him I understood. I watched as the bottle twirled around the table and the brown liquid foamed. I noticed that there was a large cut on the palm of his hand.

"What happened?" I said looking at it.

"Huh?" He stopped the bottle and looked at his hand. "Oh, that. It's nothing I cut it on a steak knife while washing dishes. No big deal." He shrugged and looked up at my blank expression.

"Didn't it hurt?"

"I've had worse."

I really didn't worry about my hand too muchand thought of a new topic.

"So, what did we decide?"

"Decide on what?"

"If you want a ride or not?"

"Hmm?"

I shifted slightly in my seat waiting for him to answer.

"Well, I need to know you better." I looked down and thought and then looked back up at him. "Okay, Coffee after school?" Could I sound more desperate?

He looked down at the bottle he was, once again, spinning.

"That sounds like a good offer." He said slightly teasing me.

"Well, you don't have to."

"No, I'll go, but I have to be home by 6:30." He smirked.

I didn't want to ask him why, but I was just happy he was talking to me. I had a crush on him since I met him and now talking to him is such an accomplishment.

The bell rang sooner than I had thought. He got up right when it rang almost like he knew it was going to ring. I got up with him and dumped my tray.

"I'll meet you in the lobby after school." He said and flashed a small smile at me.

Surprisingly, we didn't have our next class together, but the next class we did. We both sat in the back together and talked until the teacher gave us a look, one that told us to shut up.

I went to my locker before I headed for the lobby to meet Christian. When I arrived at the lobby he was already there with his block hood up over his dark hair. He had his headphones in and was looking around. He saw me walking over to him and softly smiled and I smiled in return.

He swung his massager bag over his shoulder. "You ready?" He softly said and his smile faded.

"Yeah, So where do you want to go?" I asked walking though the front door. He shrugged slightly and kept walking his green eyes looking down.

"Well, if you don't mind I know this one place in town?"

He looked up at me after I spoke and had a small grin. It was missing something though, actual happiness. "Sounds good."

We went down the steps to the parking lot to my 1994 flat black Camry. "It's not much, but it's something." I said shrugging and unlocking the doors. He opened the back door and so did I; we both threw our bags onto the seat. Then, we got into the front.

**Christian Wolf **_Point Of view_

I didn't really know what to say to her most of the time and I was glad she would ask questions and just talk to me. I was quiet most of the ride until she spoke.

"So, why do you have to be home by a curtain time?" I stiffened and shifted slightly in my seat, not wanting to tell her that I had to be home because my drunken dad gets home at that time.

"My, uh, dad gets home at that time, and uh I don't want him to get mad." I couldn't believe that I told her that much but I part of me knew that she could be trusted.

"Okay, it's shouldn't take us that long. You'll be home on time." She said wish a sweet assuring smile. I kept my eyes looking out the window.

"Thanks." I mumbled. Sometimes I felt bad for being so antisocial but it was just part of who I am.

She pulled up in front if a small shop with large windows in front. I got out and so did she. I wanted to do something nice so I got to the door before she did and opened the door. As she walked by she nodded and smiled like she did a lot.

We both sat down at one of the tall tables. Coffee seemed to appear on the table and conversation seemed to slightly flow and the time past quickly.

The waitress arrived at our table and said, "We will be locking up in a half-hour." Then she left.

I looked at the clock and it was 7:30.

"Oh crap!" I said and looked at Ryan. She covered her month with her hands.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry." She said it like she knew what was going to happen to me when I got home.

"It's no big deal. Thanks I had a good time." I said then paid. The ride was quiet but we didn't have much time because she drove so fast to get me home. She pulled into my driveway and my dad opened the door.

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow." I said still trying to convince her that everything was okay.

Grabbing my bag from the back seat I said, "Later." I walked inside and my dad shut the door behind me.

"Where have you been?" He started.

"I was hanging out with my friends."

"And the girl?"

"Leave me alone dad. It was nothing" I set my bag down and headed toward my room.

"Christian?"

I stopped and turned my head, not really understanding why I cared.

"I talked to your school coach today. He said if you show him what you can do tomorrow, he might consider you."

"I told you I didn't want to play." I said and turned back towards my room.

"What?" He raised his voice. "You know what I had to do to get him to consider you."

"I don't want to play. So I don't care." I mumbled.

He grabbed my shoulder and threw me into the wall. I never tried to fight back knowing I could take him. I just let him through me and hit me.

After it was all over I was in pain and done with fighting. I told my dad, I would at least try out. He was pleased he won.

I took a shower and went to bed, but I didn't sleep even if I wanted to I couldn't. Instead I started to draw something I often did. I kept thinking about Ryan and how she would react if I told her the truth. She would probably hug me then get all worried about it. She would make me tell somebody and then she would smile that soft effortless smile.

I finally feel asleep at 2. I woke up at 5 and my dad wad gone, like always. I never knew or wanted to know where he goes during the day. My sides were starting to bruise, so I wore my sweatshirt. I ached all over not only from the bruises but I just felt sick.

I jumped when a honk from outside interrupted my thoughts. I looked outside and it was Ryan to pick me up. I finished what I was doing and grabbed my bag. I said good-bye even though nobody was home and jogged outside and took my place in the passenger seat.

She greeted me with her familiar smile. "Hello," She said.

"Hey," I mumbled.

"How are you?"

"Fine. How about you?" I lied.

"I'm pretty good. So was your dad mad about last night?"

The bruises ached as I brought back the thought of last night. I flinched.

"No." I lied again. I looked out the window watching everything fly by.

"You never gave me an answer about the ride but I thought you would like it." She said her voice slowly fading off. I turned my head to look at her.

"This was fine. Thanks." I gave her a fake reassuring smile.

"Okay that's good. Do you need a ride after school?"

"No. Thanks I have to do something after school."

She stopped in the parking lot at school and got out. "What are you doing?"

I was silent. "Um, I have to go to soccer practice."

She raised an eye brow. "Soccer?"

I knew she never would see me as being a soccer player. I looked down slightly. "Um, yeah it's a long story."

"Oh okay." She said and we were both quiet for half of our classes feeling awkward around each other. She walked up to me at lunch and sat at my table again. She sighed, "I'm sorry." She said looking down.

"For what?" I should be the one apologizing.

"For asking questions, it's not my place."

"It's no big deal don't worry about it." She smiled her face lighting up again. Some part of me wanted to tell her the truth but another didn't and I wouldn't even know how to tell her. I hated lying to her.

"Um, do you want to hang out after practice?" I didn't want to get in trouble again, but I felt like I had upset her and even though I was antisocial I was still considerate.

"Sure, if it's okay with your dad."  
"As long as I go to practice he won't mind."

"You don't want to go do you?" I was silent; she read me too well like she almost knew everything I thought and felt but just almost.

"Not really," I looked down. "I'm pretty good but I'm sick of it. My dad has pushed me to play since I was 7. I _have _to play."

She was silent and looked down. I think she was putting everything together in here head but she would never ask what she thought. The bell rang and we went to class. I thought about Ryan though out class. I was actually starting to like her but I really didn't want to.

**Ashley Ryan (Ryan) **

_Point of view_

I was starting to like Christian he had curtain loneliness to him that I was attracted too. I was getting closer to him I could feel him trusting me, letting me in. I quietly was trying to put him together, his life in my head.

His father was some type of failure and forces Christian to make up his mistakes. His mom, well, he never talks about his mom. And he, he was lonely, scared and some days- like today- he looked sick and hurt. I still didn't understand why he was like that though. Depression? But why? That's what I didn't understand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Christian Wolf **_Point Of view_

It started with playful bantering then to disagreeing, then yelling and now, for the first time, there was hitting or it sounded like it. I was in my room trying to stay out of the fight by hiding in my room but I could still hear everything. Even past my crying I could hear the yelling from both of them and then a slap and silence, my mother started to sob.

Everything has changed so much within the last 3 months. My father lost his job, my mom had to work more and more and now I barley see her, she has to work to feed us and my dad only spent it on beer and drugs. Then the fighting stated, and I didn't understand why.

I fell asleep that night leaned against my door after I heard my dad slam the door and the fighting stopped. I never dreamed anymore only painful nightmares. I woke up at five-thirty, an hour and a half before I had to get up for school.

I staid up anyways-not being able to go back to sleep-and got into the shower. I just stood there for a long time letting the hot water sooth me. I got out and straightened my black hair and put on eyeliner.

I also changed a lot in the last year. I used to be one of the popular jocks, who thought he could do anything just because he was the head soccer player. Then I moved from Sacramento, California to New York and now, those soccer guys call me a gay fag or the loser emo kid.

Today, I got dressed in a pair of tight, black, CCS pants, and a Fall Out Boy t-shirt under a Clandestine sweatshirt. That's what most of my closet consisted of. My look everyday was tight pants, band tee, converse shoes, straight black side bangs, and eyeliner. Most of these things are unusual but I seemed to like them.

School-on the other hand- was always the same, boring and pointless, never changed even with the move. The only person I really talked to was Alex, my best friend. He understood most of the things I've been going through. I didn't tell him the latest news and wasn't planning on it. His parents fought too but not like mine and then they broke up, letting him live peacefully with his mom.

Something was a little off in reading class today. Usually there was an empty seat to my left but today somebody was in it. I peeked over to the seat to see who occupied it. It was a girl, somebody I haven't seen before and she looked like somebody that should be in the front row writing notes to her 'BFF', not in the back row eyeing me.

She looked tall almost 5'8'' and thin, with nice girly curves. She had shoulder, length, and straight, brown hair and deep brown eyes.

Our eyes met for a moment and we both turned our heads away. I didn't look at her for a long time; I flipped my hair, making it a wall between us. Then our teacher, Mr.Bledi, told the class that we could talk for the last ten minutes in honor of the new student. She must be new.

"Hi." I heard her soft voice next to me. I turned my head, flipping my hair out of the way breaking the wall. There she sat leaning over her desk with big eyes, smiling at me. The must be a joke.

"Hey." I mumbled.

"I'm Ryan. Actually, my name is Ashley Ryan."

'Ashley.' I repeated but without really saying it only moving my lips. "Um, I'm Christian Wolf. Why do you call yourself Ryan?" Did that just come from my mouth? I was striking up conversation with her. I never talked to anybody.

"'Cause Ashley is everybody's name, I wanted to be different. Not many girls are named Ryan."

I just nodded my head and put on a fake smile then, went back to my mindless doodling. There was a long quiet pause from both of us.

"I'm new here. I just moved from L.A." She said breaking the silence and I turned my head to look at her.

"I figured you were new. So, why are you talking to me and not..." I looked at the cheerleaders and jocks laughing in the front row. ", Them?" I said finishing my question.

"Well," She pondered for a moment. "You looked lonely."

"Oh, thanks."

"And you're different." Her hazel eyes looked up and down my body and then she smiled. "I like different."

I shifted slightly in my seat, I felt uncomfortable with actually talking to somebody, but I smiled, a real smile.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" I said, and then my smile faded.

"Well, it depends...Where're you from?"

"Sacramento."

"Then it's a good thing." She sat back down in her seat and gathered her stuff inside her bag. I laughed slightly not really understanding the point of her question, but I was planning on asking. I gathered my book and notebook and put them into my bag. After the bell rang, she got up went one way and I went the other, not another word.

I walked home trying to avoid actually coming home, my parents and worst of all a bus ride. The hose was overly quiet when I got home. Mom was making dinner while trying not to cry and my dad wad reading in the living room, like nothing was wrong.

I could only imagine what could have happened here. I head straight to my room but I was stopped.

"Son," I closed my eyes not wanting to talk to him. "Your school soccer team tryouts are coming up. You should sign up." By 'you should' meant 'you're going to.' He said all of this not even looking away from the paper.

"I don't want to." I also talked back, spoke my mind always leading me into trouble and this time I was afraid of what was going to come. Soccer was always the thing I had to do.

My father was the star player in High School till he lost the biggest game ever leaving me to clean up his mess. This was HIS dream; he pushed and pushed me to do the best I could. I was good, and he thought that if I won that game he lost it would make up for it. I did love the sport for a while until he became obsessed with me being the best, and I was but hated it. I didn't want that again.

"What?" He said setting down his paper.

I stood up straighter and stood firm. "I don't want to play." My voice was monotone keeping my emotion under control.

"You have to."

"No, I don't!" I said raising my voice.

"Look at you, Christian!" He said standing up and started to yell. "You look like some girl and now you're refusing to play soccer! What are you gay or something?"

"Dad, Soccer is your dream, not mine and if you want to fix your mistake, you do it. Not me!"

"You-!"

"Guys stop." My mom said speaking up.

"Shut up!" He said slapping her.

"Leave her alone!" I-for the first time-stood up to my dad and it was a very bad choice. He lifted his hand and punched me; I really couldn't feel the pain.

"Go sit down and eat." He said.

"I'm not hungry." I said turning my head back to look at him. I couldn't believe I was standing up to him again. He hit me again, and then pushed me into the wall.

I went back to my room with out another word and I didn't eat. I heard my father leave like every other night, probably out drinking or doing drugs like always.

My mother come into my room and told me to do the dishes. "Are you okay?" She asked as she put some dirty dishes next to me, into the sink, for me to clean.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"Why are you still with him mom?" I asked avoiding her question.

"I love him and he's just going through a hard time, just leave it at that."

I finished the dishes and went to my room where I spent most of my life. Either listening to music or sometimes I would write or draw, sometimes sitting against my door listening. Listening to the fighting, the crying, and the hitting.

At about 9:30, I left my room and went to take a shower. I looked at the palm of my hand; I had cut it on a knife while washing dishes one night. The cut should have hurt more than it did, but it actually felt good, I didn't understand.

My dad was home at 10:30, drunk and high. He started to yell at my mom for some stupid reason and then started to hit her, worse than last night. I started to cry as I listen to what was going on. I couldn't do anything and it was getting worse. I fell asleep.

My morning routine was the same everyday, get dress into my tight pants and band and walk to school.

Today, I was late to first period and I sat in my back seat and she was in the back row also sitting next to me. How many classes of mine was she in?

**Ashley Ryan (Ryan) **

_Point of view _

It surprised me to see him come in late to our class and the fact that he was late. He looked different today almost sicker. I always over observed people and today he looked tired and sick, but I convinced myself that he woke up late and skipped breakfast.

I leaned over my desk slightly to be closer to him.

"Hey," I said with a smile. It was so easy for me to smile, but it looked so hard for him.

"Hey," He said slightly looking over to me with his smoldering emerald eyes.

"So, why are you so late?"

"I walked to school."

"Why? Don't you have a car?"

"No I don't a have a car and I hate riding the bus."

"Then you should ride with me. Where do you live?"

"8th Avenue."

"Well, that's good 'cause I live on 6th."

A small cricked smile spread across his lips and I just wanted to hug him, he looked so different when he smiled, even a small one. I actually started to think he was cute and I liked it.

"Thanks but I can walk I don't want to cause you any trouble." He looked back down at his papers and his smiled disappeared, I wondered what he was thinking.

"Okay, but don't be late again." I smiled at him then sat back. Mr. Clad gave me a look and I stopped talking. I opened my notebook and tore off a piece of paper. I wrote on it: 787-7733 if you ever need a ride call me." I handed it to him but Mr. Clad snatched it off of his desk and threw it away.

"Miss. Ryan, I'm not sure if I told you but no note passing in my class. You too Mr. Wolf." I just nodded my head and so did he. I felt so bad for getting him yelled at.

"Sorry," I whispered and we both were very quiet for the remainder of the class- even though I was dieing not talking to him. The bell rang and he and I were the last people out.

"Hey, don't worry about getting yelled at Mr. C is always mean. What was on that?" He asked quietly.

"Oh here," I handed him a note similar to the other one."

"Thanks." He said shoving it into his pocket.

We also had second period together but I didn't feel the need to talk to him, I thought about him. I really didn't understand him; he was so nice, but afraid to talk or be himself. The bell rang and we had separate classes the next.

I had no clue what class was about all I thought about was him and what he could be thinking. He looked troubled or even scared. I waned to help but I didn't know how. The belled rang making me jump but I was glad it was lunch.

He had the same lunch as me, what a surprise. He had almost every class with me. I was one of the first people to lunch and got my food quickly.

He already was seated with a bottle of Coke next to him. He sat with his head on his heads looking into space. He was alone so there was plenty of room for me to sit.

"Hey sweets," I said with a smile. "Can I sit here?"

"Sure. Sweets?" He said looking up at me.

I sat down. "Yes, sweets. I call all my friends that."

"So, we're friends now?"

"We'll I think so. Do you?"

He shrugged, "Sure." He smiled slight. My eye drifted to the drink that sat in front of him.

"Aren't you going to eat?" His green eyes looked down at the bottle and then he picked it up and started to play with it.

"No, I never eat lunch." I just nodded my head telling him I understood. I watched as the bottle twirled around the table and the brown liquid foamed. I noticed that there was a large cut on the palm of his hand.

"What happened?" I said looking at it.

"Huh?" He stopped the bottle and looked at his hand. "Oh, that. It's nothing I cut it on a steak knife while washing dishes. No big deal." He shrugged and looked up at my blank expression.

"Didn't it hurt?"

"I've had worse."

I really didn't worry about my hand too muchand thought of a new topic.

"So, what did we decide?"

"Decide on what?"

"If you want a ride or not?"

"Hmm?"

I shifted slightly in my seat waiting for him to answer.

"Well, I need to know you better." I looked down and thought and then looked back up at him. "Okay, Coffee after school?" Could I sound more desperate?

He looked down at the bottle he was, once again, spinning.

"That sounds like a good offer." He said slightly teasing me.

"Well, you don't have to."

"No, I'll go, but I have to be home by 6:30." He smirked.

I didn't want to ask him why, but I was just happy he was talking to me. I had a crush on him since I met him and now talking to him is such an accomplishment.

The bell rang sooner than I had thought. He got up right when it rang almost like he knew it was going to ring. I got up with him and dumped my tray.

"I'll meet you in the lobby after school." He said and flashed a small smile at me.

Surprisingly, we didn't have our next class together, but the next class we did. We both sat in the back together and talked until the teacher gave us a look, one that told us to shut up.

I went to my locker before I headed for the lobby to meet Christian. When I arrived at the lobby he was already there with his block hood up over his dark hair. He had his headphones in and was looking around. He saw me walking over to him and softly smiled and I smiled in return.

He swung his massager bag over his shoulder. "You ready?" He softly said and his smile faded.

"Yeah, So where do you want to go?" I asked walking though the front door. He shrugged slightly and kept walking his green eyes looking down.

"Well, if you don't mind I know this one place in town?"

He looked up at me after I spoke and had a small grin. It was missing something though, actual happiness. "Sounds good."

We went down the steps to the parking lot to my 1994 flat black Camry. "It's not much, but it's something." I said shrugging and unlocking the doors. He opened the back door and so did I; we both threw our bags onto the seat. Then, we got into the front.

**Christian Wolf **_Point Of view_

I didn't really know what to say to her most of the time and I was glad she would ask questions and just talk to me. I was quiet most of the ride until she spoke.

"So, why do you have to be home by a curtain time?" I stiffened and shifted slightly in my seat, not wanting to tell her that I had to be home because my drunken dad gets home at that time.

"My, uh, dad gets home at that time, and uh I don't want him to get mad." I couldn't believe that I told her that much but I part of me knew that she could be trusted.

"Okay, it's shouldn't take us that long. You'll be home on time." She said wish a sweet assuring smile. I kept my eyes looking out the window.

"Thanks." I mumbled. Sometimes I felt bad for being so antisocial but it was just part of who I am.

She pulled up in front if a small shop with large windows in front. I got out and so did she. I wanted to do something nice so I got to the door before she did and opened the door. As she walked by she nodded and smiled like she did a lot.

We both sat down at one of the tall tables. Coffee seemed to appear on the table and conversation seemed to slightly flow and the time past quickly.

The waitress arrived at our table and said, "We will be locking up in a half-hour." Then she left.

I looked at the clock and it was 7:30.

"Oh crap!" I said and looked at Ryan. She covered her month with her hands.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry." She said it like she knew what was going to happen to me when I got home.

"It's no big deal. Thanks I had a good time." I said then paid. The ride was quiet but we didn't have much time because she drove so fast to get me home. She pulled into my driveway and my dad opened the door.

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow." I said still trying to convince her that everything was okay.

Grabbing my bag from the back seat I said, "Later." I walked inside and my dad shut the door behind me.

"Where have you been?" He started.

"I was hanging out with my friends."

"And the girl?"

"Leave me alone dad. It was nothing" I set my bag down and headed toward my room.

"Christian?"

I stopped and turned my head, not really understanding why I cared.

"I talked to your school coach today. He said if you show him what you can do tomorrow, he might consider you."

"I told you I didn't want to play." I said and turned back towards my room.

"What?" He raised his voice. "You know what I had to do to get him to consider you."

"I don't want to play. So I don't care." I mumbled.

He grabbed my shoulder and threw me into the wall. I never tried to fight back knowing I could take him. I just let him through me and hit me.

After it was all over I was in pain and done with fighting. I told my dad, I would at least try out. He was pleased he won.

I took a shower and went to bed, but I didn't sleep even if I wanted to I couldn't. Instead I started to draw something I often did. I kept thinking about Ryan and how she would react if I told her the truth. She would probably hug me then get all worried about it. She would make me tell somebody and then she would smile that soft effortless smile.

I finally feel asleep at 2. I woke up at 5 and my dad wad gone, like always. I never knew or wanted to know where he goes during the day. My sides were starting to bruise, so I wore my sweatshirt. I ached all over not only from the bruises but I just felt sick.

I jumped when a honk from outside interrupted my thoughts. I looked outside and it was Ryan to pick me up. I finished what I was doing and grabbed my bag. I said good-bye even though nobody was home and jogged outside and took my place in the passenger seat.

She greeted me with her familiar smile. "Hello," She said.

"Hey," I mumbled.

"How are you?"

"Fine. How about you?" I lied.

"I'm pretty good. So was your dad mad about last night?"

The bruises ached as I brought back the thought of last night. I flinched.

"No." I lied again. I looked out the window watching everything fly by.

"You never gave me an answer about the ride but I thought you would like it." She said her voice slowly fading off. I turned my head to look at her.

"This was fine. Thanks." I gave her a fake reassuring smile.

"Okay that's good. Do you need a ride after school?"

"No. Thanks I have to do something after school."

She stopped in the parking lot at school and got out. "What are you doing?"

I was silent. "Um, I have to go to soccer practice."

She raised an eye brow. "Soccer?"

I knew she never would see me as being a soccer player. I looked down slightly. "Um, yeah it's a long story."

"Oh okay." She said and we were both quiet for half of our classes feeling awkward around each other. She walked up to me at lunch and sat at my table again. She sighed, "I'm sorry." She said looking down.

"For what?" I should be the one apologizing.

"For asking questions, it's not my place."

"It's no big deal don't worry about it." She smiled her face lighting up again. Some part of me wanted to tell her the truth but another didn't and I wouldn't even know how to tell her. I hated lying to her.

"Um, do you want to hang out after practice?" I didn't want to get in trouble again, but I felt like I had upset her and even though I was antisocial I was still considerate.

"Sure, if it's okay with your dad."  
"As long as I go to practice he won't mind."

"You don't want to go do you?" I was silent; she read me too well like she almost knew everything I thought and felt but just almost.

"Not really," I looked down. "I'm pretty good but I'm sick of it. My dad has pushed me to play since I was 7. I _have _to play."

She was silent and looked down. I think she was putting everything together in here head but she would never ask what she thought. The bell rang and we went to class. I thought about Ryan though out class. I was actually starting to like her but I really didn't want to.

**Ashley Ryan (Ryan) **

_Point of view_

I was starting to like Christian he had curtain loneliness to him that I was attracted too. I was getting closer to him I could feel him trusting me, letting me in. I quietly was trying to put him together, his life in my head.

His father was some type of failure and forces Christian to make up his mistakes. His mom, well, he never talks about his mom. And he, he was lonely, scared and some days- like today- he looked sick and hurt. I still didn't understand why he was like that though. Depression? But why? That's what I didn't understand.


End file.
